This Wasn’t in the Parenting Handbook

Their walls of sadness

surround them,

engulf them

An isolation of suffering

that threatens

to suffocate them

I have tried carefully chiseling

in every corner, every crevice

I have swung a sledgehammer 

until my muscles were sore

And for a time,

I might create an opening,

an escape

A way to allow 

laughter and happiness

to shine through the

now open cracks in their walls

But they are an expert builder

and they soon seal the walls

as strong, as sturdy as new

They seems far more skilled 

at masonry than I am

at demolition

Each time,

the walls seem taller,

thicker, more solid

Each time,

my arms ache more

But I continue 

to swing my hammer

with whatever strength 

still remains

Though I often

can’t tell if I am 

even making a dent 

in their walls

Written April 27, 2019